


The Last Person

by 9th_hennepin



Category: Kiss Kiss Bang Bang (2005)
Genre: Breaking and Entering, F/M, Harry is hopeless and lost, One Night Stand, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on Tumblr, Smut, mob activity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-02
Updated: 2014-10-02
Packaged: 2018-02-19 15:07:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2392802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/9th_hennepin/pseuds/9th_hennepin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was supposed to be one last job, in and out, nice and clean, retrieve the drive and get the Family off her back once and for all. Then he showed up and ruined everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

It was supposed to be one last job, in and out, nice and clean, retrieve the drive and get the Family off her back once and for all. _One more and you’re out, Cara baby_. But, of course, the best laid plans of mice and men … yada yada yada.

 

Anyway, there she was, all decked out in her best cat suit with a set of lockpicks on one hip and a taser securely attached to the other, minding her own damn business and illegally breaking and entering into a New York City warehouse, when some mook in a hoodie and ratty ass reeboks came tearing around the corner like satan himself wanted his ass for dinner. Now this wasn’t uncommon, per se, this neighborhood made the South Side of Chicago look like fucking Greenwich Village. The odd thing was that no one was chasing him. Like not even a pigeon or rat in sight.

 

Stupid fucker or not, Cara really wasn’t open to anyone else joining her one woman burglary party, so she flattened herself against the hard brick of the warehouse and held her breath as the man sort of stumbled past, tripping over his feet as he looked back over his shoulder. Yeah, he really didn’t belong here.

 

Out of sheer morbid curiosity, she watched as the stranger made it about 15 yards away before having to stop and, she really couldn’t tell from her vantage point but she assumed from the way his hands clasped his knees and his back heaved, wheeze up a lung. Loudly. And right under one of those goddamn flood lights that Cara had learned to avoid at all costs.

 

Shit.

 

Cara had two options here. One: continue with her thieving and pray to god that no one notices the man lit up like fucking Macbeth on stage. And two: drag the idiot out of the spotlight before he got them both arrested, or put into traction with was more likely considering the whole mafia aspect of the job.

 

“Fuck it,” she hissed, ducking down low and sprinting to where the man was now clutching his chest and squeezing his eyes shut like he hadn’t run so much in years.

 

As she got closer she noticed his knuckles were bleeding and his black jeans were torn at both knees. Notching her alert level up a few pegs, Cara approached the winded man and slowly slid in front of him.

 

“Hey, what the fuck are you doing?” she half-whispered as the man’s eyes shot open in alarm.

 

“Jesus H. Christ! Where did you come from? Is- is that a cat suit? Are we in real life right now?!” He had this manic look in his eyes that put Cara even more on edge, but she didn’t have time to deal with his ramblings. She grabbed his arm with surprising strength and hauled him back to her original spot by the warehouse door.

 

“Ouch, your fingers are like tiny vices! I don’t know how I-” Cara cut him off by pressing two fingers to his soft lips and giving him a look that would make Genghis Khan wet his pants.

 

“Not another word,” she muttered, dangerously. He immediately shut up and took a half a step back. Cara took advantage of his compliance, threw open the warehouse door and shoved him hard inside. When nothing exploded or triggered booby traps, she gracefully stepped over his prone body and into the expansive space.

 

Professionally, she had to stifle a laugh. These guys didn’t even have motion sensors. Talk about small potatoes.

 

“Don’t move,” she said as she took out a flashlight and made her way to the office nestled in the corner.

 

“Yeah, really wasn’t planning on it,” he mumbled back, his face smushed by the concrete floor. Cara would have felt bad if he wasn’t ruining her night.

 

“I said no talking,” she spat as she unfurled the lockpicking kit from her belt and set to work on the office’s lock. It was embarrassingly slow going. Usually Cara could pick a lock in a few minutes, 5 tops, but the whole situation with the weird man was throwing her off her game. After a good 10 minutes of fumbling around, she finally swallowed her pride and turned back to the guy.

 

“Hey, C’mere and give me a hand, yeah?” she asked, trying for sweet, but sounding more sarcastic than anything. She threw in a please for good measure.

 

“I thought I wasn’t supposed to move?”

 

“Just shut up and get your ass over here.”

 

The bedraggled man pushed himself to his feet and slightly limped over. Cara pushed the flashlight in his hands and told him to hold it steady. After a deep breath, she got back to work on the lock.

 

“So, what am I supposed to call you anyway?” he asked, leaning jauntily on the wall beside the door. “I mean I’m kinda new to this whole clandestine warehouse jacking with strangers thing, but shouldn’t we at least have like code names?”

 

Cara grit her teeth and ignored him.

 

“I’ll be Kid Kalamity and you can be,” he paused to tap the flashlight against his chin in thought, causing Cara to elbow him hard in the gut. “Ow, okay, fine, there. Let there be light! Anyway, how about The Cat Burglar?”

Cara groaned and elbowed him again, albeit softer this time. “Boy, you just don’t shut up do ya?”

 

“Nah, that’s too obvious. I’ll call you Kitty! Get it? Because you’re cute, but ya got wicked claws. Meow.”

 

“Hows about we dont call each other anything? You’re only here so you don’t get both our asses caught. What the hell were you doing out there anyway?” Cara asked as she finally felt the tell tale click and the lock open. She pumped her fist in triumph before straightening to look “Kid Kalamity” in the face. The light of the flashlight gave his handsome face wicked shadows and angles.

 

“There was this creep that was harassing my sister, so I figured I’d visit his place of business at night and teach the fucker a lesson. Didn’t, uh, turn out so good for me,” he replied, all joking aside. Cara felt something tighten in her chest at the story.

 

“That’s sweet. Stupid as hell, but sweet. Uh, your sister’s a lucky gal.” It was getting awkward, so she carefully turned the knob and opened the door to the office. It was a windowless room, so she flicked on the light before entering.

 

“Not really.”

 

“Huh?” Cara asked, her attention mostly focused on finding the thumb drive that brought her here in the first place. And boy did this asshole keep his office like a pig sty, no offence to the pigs. The desk was littered with paper and garbage, the furniture looked second hand at best and the large shelving wooden unit off to the side was sagging under the weight of years of neglect.

 

“I was kinda a shit brother growing up. Still am, really. What about you?” He perched himself on a ugly plaid armchair and watched the young woman rummage around in an office she just broken into. Suddenly things didn’t seem so humorous anymore.

 

“I, uh, don’t have a sister.” Cara’s heart sped up as her hand grasped a small curved plastic object, but it turned out to be a highlighter.

 

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he narrowed his eyes and studied the woman in front of him. She was young, like startlingly so, and had an elegance about her that belonged on a ballet stage, not a dirty mobster’s office.

 

“Ugh, fine I need to acquire this flash drive and asking nicely doesn’t get you far in this town.” She huffed and overturned a drawer, pawing through the mess of paper clips, memos and etcetera.

 

“Huh, and why? Are there like nuclear launch codes on it? Are you CIA?” He whispered conspiratorially. Clara fixed him with another glare.

 

“Yeah, that’s it. Can you check under that cushion for me?” She moved over to where he was sitting and shoved at him. He stood up, right in her personal space and leveled her with a stern look, one that said “I’ve got you all figured out little girl.”

 

“Oh, so you’re mafia then.” Clara took a step back to get some room to breath, but he just took one step forward.

 

“Psh no, sorry. Not even close. Now excuse me,” she tried to brush him off and get to the cushion, but he caught her arm and twisted her back toward him. He was skinny, but had that wiry sort of strength that came from working odd jobs.

 

“Me thinks the lady doth protest too much.” He smirked.

 

“That doesn’t mean what you think it means, moron. Don’t misquote Shakespeare at me like you’re some hot shit.” Clara slapped his hand off of her and shoved past him, only to find there was nothing but lint and a few pennies under the chair cushion. She felt like screaming.

 

“Ah, but I have seem to have hit a nerve.”

 

“Yeah, I’m about to hit a few of your nerves if you don’t shut the hell up, guy,” Cara growled out, raking her fingers through her hair and trying to think. _If I was a fat, misogynistic, old gangster, where would I hide an incriminating flash drive?_

 

“Did you check the bookshelf?” the stranger asked, nonchalantly picking at the dried blood on his knuckles. Cara turned to glare at him again. “What? I’m _helping_. When I was a kid that’s where my friend’s dad hid all the good porn.” He shrugged.

 

“You want to help? Go stand by the outside door and keep a lookout. This is taking way too long and their security will be making a sweep of the area soon,” she replied, sounding like an unamused babysitter, but moving towards the dilapidated bookshelf all the same.

 

“Security? Whoa, alright, you’re great and all. Very charming. And I think we really bonded over the whole breaking and entering thing. A memory I will cherish forever, believe me. But _fuck no_. You didn’t say anything about there being security, so I’m going to just leave you to it. Okay?” He gave Cara an odd little bow before continuing, angling himself towards the door. “Okay, so good luck and have a nice life.”

 

Cara waited until he reached the warehouse floor before calling out. “Good luck to you too, ‘cause you’re gonna need it, pal!”

 

She just watched as the man did a double take, muttered to himself, then with a mighty sigh turned right back around and stalked over to Cara. “What do you mean by that? You think you’re being cute, don’t you? Well, you’re not, sister. You’re being a sadistic b-”

 

He choked on his last word as Cara very casually unholstered the taser on her belt and made a show of checking its charge. “I’m being a sadistic _what_ now?”

 

“ _Bumblebee_!” He blurted, then cringed at his own stupidity. “I was going to say bumblebee. Please don’t tase me.”

 

“What’s your name?” Cara asked, trying her best to be sincere and nonthreatening, well as nonthreatening as a woman in a cat suit wielding a taser can be. Noticing his hesitation, she sighed. “Here, I’ll go first. Hi, my name is Cara. What’s yours?”

 

“Cara? Huh. That’s kinda disappointing. I was thinking your name would be something like Selena or Raven.” When Cara raised the taser and pointed it right at the family jewels, he twitched and backtracked immediately. “Cara is such a lovely name. Beautiful really. My name is Harry. Not anywhere near as nice as-”

 

“Okay, Harry,” Cara cut off his nervous rambling and placed the taser down in an empty slot on the bookshelf. “You’re new to this, so I’m going to be nice and spell it out for you. The security I mentioned earlier, they’re not like mall security. They’re heavily armed high school dropouts that tend to maim first and ask questions never. And they make frequent rounds to patrol all the buildings they have in the district. Now, I have their schedules and routes committed to memory so as not to be mauled by two men with the combined IQ of 45. Do you have such knowledge?”

 

Harry swallowed thickly. “No, I do not.”

 

“And are you fond of having your kneecaps shattered?”

 

“Honestly, never tried it, but I’m going to say on that one too.”

 

“Now do you see the reason why I grabbed you out from under the fucking spot light? You could have caused a lot of trouble for yourself, and me. You should be grateful, Harry.”

 

“Yup, it makes sense. But are you sure you’re not mafia ‘cause that was very Godfather-esque” This time Cara barely had to narrow her eyes at him before he was eating his words. “What I meant was, thank you and I will shut up now.”

 

“Good. So, stick with me and do everything I say, and I promise I will get you through the rest of the night unmolested by mobsters,” Cara finished with a bright smile and ruffled Harry’s messy hair, petting him like a wayward puppy she found on the side of the road.

 

Harry danced out of her reach, huffing indignantly. “Fine, just no more taser okay? I don’t trust you with that thing.” He was eyeing the small weapon on the shelf like a snake coiled to strike. Cara laughed, deep and throaty, and quite frankly a little sexy as far as Harry was concerned. He liked amused Cara far better than armed and dangerous Cara.

 

“No promises,” she replied with a cheeky wink. “Now be a dear and go keep watch. By my time we still have twelve minutes before they’re checking this building, but I like to keep a ten minute margin of error in situations like this.”

 

Harry nodded, a bit distracted by the way Cara had turned away from him and stretched her body to reach the top of the bookshelf. The cat suit left nowhere to hide, and he couldn’t help but trace the lean lines and delicate curves of her body. Forgive him, he was only human.

 

“Oh, and be sure to not to have your whole face showing in the window, yeah?. It’ll be like a big, pasty beacon,” Cara said over her shoulder. Harry scoffed.

 

“Pasty? Please, that was weak and you know it,” he replied, finally tearing his gaze from the young woman’s body and making his way to the outside door to the warehouse. He crouched down by the filmy window and listened to Cara let out that laugh again. Things could be worse, he thought to himself and assumed his watch.

 

After yanking out and rifling through just about every moldy book and fucking knick knack on the shelves, Cara finally found her treasure buried in an antique humidor, nestled snugly among the foul smelling stogies. Her victory shout mingled with an alarmed yell from Harry.

 

“What is it?” they shouted in unison, both running toward the other and meeting in the doorway of the office.

 

“I found the drive!” Cara exclaimed, waving the precious find at Harry before tucking it safely into one of her suit’s many zippered pockets.

 

“Great, I found trouble. Two big ugly goons, like ten paces away. I don’t want my kneecaps broken, Cara!” Harry explained hurriedly, gesturing wildly with his hands with a panicked expression on his face. Cara calmly grabbed his flailing limbs and hushed him.

 

“I told you that wasn’t going to happen, Harry. Do you trust me?” He nodded. “Good.”

 

Cara went back to the office, switched off the light and closed the door. Then she abruptly grabbed Harry’s hand and yanked him down one of the many rows of the warehouse, pausing only to grab a piece of lead pipe. They didn’t stop their mad dash until they reached the far corner and Cara practically threw Harry down behind some shipping supplies. He went down like a sack of potatoes.

 

“Ouch, woman!” He exclaimed, rubbing a sore ankle.

 

“Don’t be such a baby,” Cara muttered as she scaled the immense shelf above Harry with the lithe grace of a panther, the pipe squeezed precariously in the crook of her arm.

 

“Why are we even still here?” Harry hissed up at her. “Shouldn’t we be making our way out the back?”

 

Cara perched herself on top of the unforgiving metal shelf and strained her eyes towards the front of the warehouse. “Trust me,” she replied as loud as she dared. Her heart was pounding like a bass drum in her chest. She hadn’t felt this nervous in a very long time.

 

It was like an eternity to the pair, but mere seconds later the front door to the warehouse creaked open ominously and two burly figures stepped into the shadows, the bigger of the two wielding a  massive Maglight. Cara heard some rustling and a strangled gasp from below and prayed that Harry had enough sense to knock it the fuck off and not make anymore sound.

 

As she predicted, the goons went straight for the office. Cara smirked to herself as their shouts of alarm reached her from across the warehouse, clearly they weren’t fans of her handy work.

 

Taking the pretty big gamble that the hired men would linger in the office to investigate and call in reinforcements, Cara stood up, clutched the lead pipe tight in her fist, cursing her sweaty palms and cocked back as far as her arm went. Her aim was perfect, the pipe sailing effortlessly through the silence and clattering down at the opposite end of the warehouse, lost in the maze of industrial sized shelving.

 

The goons shouted again and clambered over to the commotion, turning over boxes and swearing up a storm.

 

Cara half climbed, half jumped down from her perch, stumbling slightly at the sharp pain it caused to shoot up from her knees, and reached down behind a crate for Harry. He emerged wide eyed and panicking.

 

“You’re crazy!” he accused, never the less letting her drag him off again. “You’re certifiable! Those guys are going to eat us alive!” he whispered desperately as the ran.

 

“Trust me and run!” Cara breathed back. They were going to have to pass the chaos her pipe throw had cause, so she squeezed Harry’s hand tight, ducked her head and held her breath. Luckily, the men had left the front door wide open so Cara and Harry simply had to slip through while the guards were still scrambling to find the intruder.

 

Her mind was buzzing with fear. Each step, each pound of her foot on the harsh concrete sent jolts of lightning up her spine. Breathing became a conscious effort. Briefly, horribly, she thought about ditching Harry, letting his hand go and sprinting off. He was slowing her down and speed was a matter of life or death. But when Cara glanced back at his sweaty, torn hoodie and determined face, she felt a pang of guilt for even thinking about it. He wasn’t Prince Charming by any stretch, but he sure as hell didn’t deserve to be left to the wolves. So she clamped down harder on his hand and willed him to push through it.

 

It was close. As they ran hand in hand out of the building and out into the balmy New York night, they could hear more men thundering towards the warehouse. But they kept running, each clinging to the other, encouraging them to move faster. It wasn’t until they were several blocks away that Cara turned down an alley and finally came to a stop.

 

“I… _you_ …oh, this hurts. I can’t… _fuck_!” Harry wheezed like a seventy year old asthmatic, leaning against the dirty brick wall and clutching his chest.

 

Out of breath and in pain herself, Cara rolled her eyes at his dramatics. “ _Baby_ ,” she muttered, walking over to Harry and taking his hands away from his chest and placing them on top of his head.

 

“Better?” she asked, before placing her own hands on her head and pacing in slow circles.

 

Harry took a few gulps of air then mimicked her pacing. “Yes. Thank you.” He’d never been so sore in his life, but the adrenaline coursing through his veins was messing with his head. He felt like he could climb a mountain and still have energy left over for a game of pick-up basketball. He turned to Cara and beamed.

 

“That was, wow… that was amazing! Ugh, my chest hurts, but I’ve never felt so… so _alive_!” Harry babbled, waving his elbows with his hands on his head, looking like a big dumb bird about to take flight. Cara let out a breathless laugh, feeling her own bubble of adrenaline start to consume her as she watched his antics. “We could have died! And you were _incredible_ , with the ninja climbing and the running! Jesus H. Christ!”

 

“All in a night’s work,” said Cara. She was struggling to enjoy the silence, the peace that came from a job well done. Normally, this was the highlight of the job, the little high from cheating personal injury or death. But tonight felt wrong. Something was nagging at her mind, an unsatisfied feeling, like the kind she got after watching a movie that ended on a cliff hanger. It’s not that she didn’t want the night to end; it’s that she didn’t want it to end like this.

 

“That is one helluva job, sweetheart.” Harry spun around in a circle and practically skipped himself into Cara’s personal bubble, backing her up to the wall. “I feel like I can do _anything_ ,” he whispered, his voice almost awestruck.

 

Cara felt herself being pulled to Harry, like a rip current that had caught her and was steadily pulling her under. She tried to shake it off. _It’s just the adrenaline talking_ , she told herself, _let’s not do anything rash._

 

“Do you uh, want to get out of here?” She was trying to ask if he wanted a ride home or something, but it got all mixed up from her brain to her mouth and came out more of a cheesy line then intended. Harry leaned closer into her personal space and she was overwhelmed by his musky scent and body heat, sending her head spinning. The column of his throat was inches from her face, all corded muscle and pulsing blood, and Cara couldn’t help but lean forward and place an opened mouth kiss to his jugular pulse point.

 

So much for not doing anything rash.

 

Harry sucked in a breath as Cara mouthed his neck. His night had gone from running for his life, to _this_ and he’d be damned before he did or said anything to ruin it. When she pulled away and looked up at him through her lashes, he couldn’t hide his kid at Christmas grin. “My place or yours, kitty?”


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final part, at least for now.
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Ultimately, they wound up going to Cara’s place, because, well, she had a car and Harry had a smelly, nosey roommate. The trek to her car was an interesting one, alternating between giddy outbursts of manic laughter and teasing, and clandestine moments of shoving up against one another, each touch, each kiss a solid affirmation of their own circumvention of death or serious injury.

Simultaneously, their hearts pounded, veins surging with adrenaline and something much more potent. Something almost animalistic. If Harry thought Cara like a cat before, he was sure of it now. Her movements, her fingers clawing at his clothes, the way she moaned low in her throat, like a purr, when his lips worried a pulse point on her neck. Once, when a police cruiser was spotted, she had pushed him into the shadows of a building and nuzzled into his sweatshirt until the coast was clear.

If Cara was a cat, then Harry was most definitely prey. Briefly, he entertained the idea of being cat-like himself, or perhaps a wild, hungry wolf, but those thoughts died each time Cara pounced. She was a strong grace incarnate, and Harry had to concede to her dominance. He’d gladly be the deer to her mountain lion if it meant she’d keep on rubbing up against him.

Those thoughts of her feline body, nude and predatory against him, and the fantastic view he had of Cara’s ass as she sashayed down the street, leading him by the hand, were what caused Harry to trip and nearly fall on his own ass when she came to an abrupt stop in front of what looked like a Russian deli, but stunk of a mob front.

“For fuck’s sake, Harry! You got two left feet or something?” Cara laughed, and god, that laugh did _things_ to him. She steadied him before turning to walk down another side alley, her hips beckoning him to follow.

“Yeah, or something,” he muttered, catching up to Cara as she pulled out a key fob from one of her many pockets and unlocked a vehicle previously hidden in the dark of the alleyway. The combination of the sleek two door Audi she was climbing into and the seemingly perfectly respectable yet obviously corrupt deli out front brought back that itching in his brain about his new friend’s mob connection.

Something felt wrong, but considering the fact that his _other_ head was hogging most of the blood flow, Harry climbed into the sports car without a second thought. He was rewarded with a beaming smile from Cara and any apprehension he might have had went flying out the window as she carefully backed out and swung the car into the street.

Cara drove like a fucking maniac. She knew she should slow down and not take the corners so sharply, that it was damn foolish to attract any attention. If a cop pulled them over and saw her get-up and Harry’s hoodlum self, they’d be spending the night in the tank for sure. And then there was the damning fact that she had a unregistered, modified glock strapped under her seat… But Harry had wandering hands that were driving her _crazy_ and her foot seemed to have grown pounds heavier on the gas pedal. Adrenaline and lust were a powerful cocktail.

“So where are we heading, kitty,” he leaned in to breath into her ear, making her shiver and the speedometer kick up a few miles. Harry could have easily answered his own question simply by looking out the window, he knew the city well enough to recognize landmarks. But the view _in the car_ was so much more alluring.

“Brooklyn, I live in Brooklyn. And you better thank your lucky stars that I left my taser in that warehouse because if you call me ‘ _kitty_ ’ one more time, I’d have been tempted to shock your balls off, _champ_ ,” Cara growled back, leaning into the steering wheel and bearing her teeth as a  sedan cut her off at an intersection. “Learn to drive, ya fuckin’ cunt!” she aggressively swore, letting her road rage take control of the mess of emotions that were steering the ship in her head.

Harry, freaked and scared for his sensitive bits, but also more than a little turned on by her outburst, thought it wise to remove his hand from where it was stroking the inside of Cara’s thigh, lest she lash out at him as well. Of course, that was a stupid fucking decision, because Cara whipped her head to glare at him, completely ignoring the road.

“We got a problem, Harry?” She asked, raising a brow and smirking over at her passenger. Harry nearly shrieked like a small child when their car drifted into the other lane and oncoming traffic, but Cara casually looked up and swung the car back in her lane, just missing kissing a taxicab with the Audi.

“Nope. No problems whatsoever. You are an _excellent_ driver, by the way,” he retorted. Jesus, he must have had a death wish, goading this amazingly hot, but more than likely amazingly _deadly_ , woman. He just couldn’t help himself. Harry never learned how to keep his trap shut.

Luckily for him though, Cara only laughed and rolled some of the tension from her shoulders. “My father taught me how to drive and then promptly died of a massive heart attack after some old biddy clipped his truck in a parking lot. I think I’m doin’ pretty good considering.”

“Ah, it’s genetic. Good to know,” Harry replied, moving to replace his hand on her thigh, this time a few inches higher. The leathery material of her suit felt warm and he could feel her muscles tense briefly before relaxing into his teasing caress.

Cara let out a little sigh, hardly enough for Harry to even hear, but suddenly all he could focus on was getting her to do it again.

His fingers started to knead into her thigh, moving in lazy circles, slowly creeping up her leg until they reached the apex of her thighs. And bingo, Cara sighed and then moaned as Harry let his fingers tease and prod at her.

“Mmm, you think my driving is bad now, keep doing that and you’ll really find out,” Cara said, her voice low and breathy. The sound of it went straight to his groin.

“Right,” Harry replied, not withdrawing his hand, but moving it to simply cup her mons. “How far?”

As soon as the words had left his mouth, the car came to an abrupt stop. “Actually, we’re here,” She replied, sounding mildly surprised as she pulled the Audi carefully into it’s spot on the street.

_Here_ was a row of old three-story brownstones, the kind that Harry had only ever really seen on television. Pristine, dignified buildings with wrought iron fencing and bay windows. Not exactly the abode of a part-time thief.

Not for the first time, he found himself thinking _mobsters!,_ but he kept his mouth shut for once because once Cara had cut the engine, she reached down and took her turn to cup him through his jeans. He jerked in surprise.

“OH, hey, hi,” Harry stuttered out, almost moaning when Cara leaned into his space and pressed her lips to the side of his jaw.

“Hi,” she said, stifling a giggle. Every other thought was violently thrown from her head when Harry turned into her and caught her lips in a searing kiss.

Cara had had her fair share of make out sessions in cars. Hell, she lost her virginity in the back seat of a Buick when she was seventeen. And maneuvering in tight spaces was a skill she had significantly built up over the years. But this man, on this night, a quickie in the front seat of her boss’s car wasn’t going to be anywhere near enough.

“Mmm, inside. Now,” she demanded as she pulled herself from his grasp.

Harry didn’t need to be told twice. He was up and out of the car before Cara had even unbuckled her seat belt. She flashed him a sultry smile from across the Audi after she slowly eased herself out the door, deciding to play with him a little before she pounced.

Cara made a show of locking the car and swayed her hips as she stalked past a wide-eyed Harry to unlock the iron gate. “Come on. Let’s go celebrate.”

The upstairs apartment of the brownstone was clearly in a state of transition. Boxes, both empty and filled, were neatly piled in the middle of the living room. Several framed pictures, wrapped tightly in bubblewrap and plastic, were propped up against the back of a large leather sofa. Most of this would have gone unseen to Harry Lockhart when he had a drop-dead sexy woman leading him back to her bedroom, if he hadn’t jammed the toe of his sneaker into a suitcase. The bulky case fell over, making a loud enough thump on the hardwood floor to momentarily distract Harry from his prime directive.

“New place?” he inquired, taking a second to scan his surroundings. The place seemed bigger than his childhood home, but was a hell of a lot more empty.

“Moving out. Not mine. Just Temporary.” Cara’s words were punctuated by her mouth pausing to lick and suck at his neck. Harry mentally shrugged it off and let her lead him down a narrow hallway and into her bedroom.

This room was also quite sparse, the king-sized bed with matching dresser and end tables being the only furniture left. But it wasn’t like either of them needed anything more. Cara flicked on the light and headed for a walk-in closet.

“Make yourself comfy, I gotta take care of something first,” She called over her shoulder and closed the closet door behind her. Her chest was pounding and she felt weirdly sick, like her stomach went on a rollercoaster without the rest of her. This was it, one last thing to do and she was free.

Two soft thuds from the bedroom, followed by the mattress groaning as Harry must have hopped onto it, made her pause and smile wistfully. _What a perfect way to celebrate my new freedom…_

Wanting, needing to go fast, Cara quickly located the electronic lockbox that was cleverly concealed as a woman’s shoe caddy, and punched in the numbers to open the door. She then unzipped one of the pockets on her suit, reaching in to grab the fucking drive and be done with it, but her fingers met only fabric. _No._

Frantically, Cara ripped open each pocket, hands shaking as she methodically checked every inch of her suit for the drive or a hole. But nothing. A wild, frustrated growl forced it way out of her throat as she tore her catsuit off and flung it across the closet. She had it, she fucking knew she had it! Cara clenched her fists impotently and tried to think.

“You okay in there?” The sound of his voice made her jump. In the span of a few seconds Cara had completely forgotten about the man in her bed. She was going to have to get rid of him, fake a headache or something, then get back to warehouse somehow. She doubted there would be another stumbling, funny man she could rescue… Then a thought blazed through her mind and sent her vision red.

“Where is IT!” She burst from the closet, snarling and half naked, and went after Harry, who had been casually reclining, hoody gone and shoes off, in the bed. He bolted upright at her sudden rage.

“Where is wha- _umph_.” It didn’t take much for Cara to overpower him. A well timed elbow to the solar plexus and Harry was flat on his back, clutching his stomach. She took the opportunity to leap onto the bed and straddle his legs, keeping them tucked tight between her thighs while she forced his arms up and back over his head.

“You keep playing dumb with me and I will not hesitate to drive your stupid nose into your brain! Where’s the fucking drive!” Cara demanded, her face so close to his that he could feel her hot breath on his cheek. His eyes flickered down to catch a peek at her cleavage, he couldn’t help it. She tightened her thighs around his legs, making Harry call out in pain.

“Alright, fuck, my pocket. It’s in my pants pocket, just get the fuck off me!” Harry cooperated, his voice nearing a whine. God, his stomach hurt and the room was spinning.

Cara straightened, her hands digging into each pocket until one came back with the flash drive. Her golden ticket. A brief feeling of intense relief flashed, before the rage was back. “I hope those bastards paid you up front, I really do, because you are going to need the money to have my boot surgically removed from your colon when I’m through!” she seethed.

“Jesus, what _money_? I swear on everything I hold dear on this planet that I have no idea what you are talking about, you crazy woman!” Harry replied, back to clutching his abdomen now that his hands were free. He had to actively keep himself from ogling her in her underwear. “No one paid me to take the fucking thing!”

“So, you’re going to stick to the whole clueless doof act, really? How stupid do you think I am?” she asked, daring him to so much as move. Absently, she found herself feeling a little disappointment mixed with the anger and dread that was clawing at her stomach. She really did like that guy.

“What _act_? Yeah, I took it, fine, but only so I’d have an excuse to call you later, okay? Do I look like a guy that gets paid to do, well, anything?”

“How?” She demanded through gritted teeth.

“How what?”

“ _How_ did you pick my pocket without me _feeling_ it? How could you possibly have done that without training?”

“Magic?” Cara’s lip twitched dangerously, so Harry took a deep breath to explain. “More like sleight of hand, really. Back home in Indiana, I had nothing else to do so I taught myself magic. Give me a little red ball and I can blow your mind.”

Harry didn’t know what he expected, by Cara tumbling on to her side and laughing hysterically sure wasn’t it. He just sort of sat there, rubbing at the spot just below his breast bone the previously homicidal, now madly giggling woman had thumped him on, and stared. He probably should have got up and left, headed for the hills, maybe go over a few rivers so she’d lose his scent. But he was in too deep with this one. He had dated some crazy woman in his day, but this one was really taking the whole fucking cake.

“Magic!” Cara managed to shout amidst the sheer-relief driven fit of laughing. She couldn’t _believe_ this guy, but at the same time she had to. No hired man would ever say that earnestly. And there was also the glaring fact that he wasn’t using her momentary incapacitation to steal the drive back and flee.

“Yeah, I didn’t think it was that funny…” Harry trailed off, not quite sure if she was still going to make good on her threat to shove a boot up his ass.

“Oh, god,” she exclaimed, wiping tears from her eyes and finally catching her breath. “My stomach hurts! But I needed that. This whole job has made me too uptight. I was about to seriously injure you, did you realize that?” Cara righted herself, standing on her knees in the bed to better look over Harry.

“I think I got the picture, yeah.” He gestured to his abdomen.

“Sorry, it’s just- that drive is my ticket out of this life. I mean, you saw me rob a warehouse in the middle of the night just to get it. Why even risk taking it?” Her voice had lowered in concern as she pushed his hands away to examine his stomach. She curled her fingers under the hem of his shirt and pulled it up out of the way, completely misinterpreting the shiver that went through his body at the contact. Cara was afraid she had really hurt him, but after a some prodding she realized it was mostly superficial damage.  He’d be in pain for a while, even though she had pulled the punch a bit,  and Harry was sure to have a bruise in the morning.

“I don’t know, I wasn’t thinking. I just knew I wanted to see you again.” He winced at a particularly hard poke and grabbed her hands. Cara caught his gaze and the lust from before spiked again, this time edged with something sweeter than just pure adrenaline.  

“That’s the stupidest, yet nicest gesture anyone’s ever made for me,” she said, sounding much younger than Harry had ever heard her. He tried to shrug it off, but he beamed back up at her, despite her having literally attacked him minutes prior.

“Hey, it was mostly selfish. I mean, you’ve seen _you_ right? Any guy put in my place would have done something _at least_ equally stupid. You’re- you’re something else, sweetheart.” Harry rubbed his thumb against the soft skin on her wrist. Hey, he’d done a lot stupider things than hit on the girl that just tried to kill him. This one barely even made the list.

Still,” Cara began, shifting to straddle Harry again, this time behaving much more like an amorous house cat than a panther. “I want to make it up to you.” She leaned down and captured his lips in a quick, searching kiss, then reached behind and unclasped her bra.

And holy Mary mother of Jesus, if Harry thought she was a vision in a catsuit, naked and on top of him Cara was pure divinity. As she tossed both the bra and flash drive towards the general direction of the closet, he grasped her hips and pulled her down, grinding his hard-on up against her sinfully sheer panties.

Cara gasped, looking down at Harry, almost like she was in awe. “I wasn’t sure you’d be up for it. You must think I’m crazy, attacking you and-” Harry heaved himself up to silence her with another kiss.

“Hey, I think you’re crazy, you think I’m stupid. Every couple’s got some issues.” He flashed her a smirk before directing his attention to her chest. Her breasts were quite small and pert, fitting perfectly with her long, lean body and he’d wanted to play with them since the moment she tossed him to a dirty warehouse floor.

A giggle turned into a moan in Cara’s throat as he gently explored her chest with his mouth, scraping his teeth against her already pebbled nipples. Harry took his time with each, making sure each breast got the same amount of attention, before she finally snapped and grabbed his head for another kiss.

Her dominant side was showing again when she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and bit down, growling playfully at him. Harry was glad to let her take over, he was more than a little sore, and leaned back onto the pillows.

“I am more than happy to let you make it up to me, kitty,” he teased, knowing he was poking a wild animal, but reveling in the thrill of it. Cara rewarded him by hunching over and sinking her teeth into his neck. He gasped at the shock of pain, then relaxed under her soothing tongue as she worried the spot with licks and wet kisses.

“Call me ‘kitty’ one more time, I dare you,” she hissed, rearing back to look him in the eye. Harry held her hard gaze and smiled cheekily back.

“Sure, kitty,” he whispered, barely getting each syllable out before she pounced. In a blink she had is shirt off and was clawing at his chest, pressing herself hard against his hips.

By then the need far outweighed the fun of the game. The mood shifted from playful to sensual. Cara helped Harry remove his pants, pausing only to grab a condom from the bedside table, and then wiggled out of her underwear. Now Harry was painfully hard, his cock leaking already and straining up from his body. Cara pressed a hot kiss to the head as she got back up to her knees beside him, then ripped open the foil packet with her teeth.

He sucked in a breath between clenched teeth as Cara rolled the condom onto his aching cock, his hips bucking slightly up into her hand. His arms shot out to grab her as she moved to swing a leg gracefully over his hip, pulling her into a heated embrace and her lips into a searing kiss. She straddled him again, their bodies fitting together perfectly when she tilted her pelvis and took him deep inside. They both groaned into the kiss.

After a still moment to adjust, Cara pushed hard on Harry’s shoulder to pin him to the bed, then started to ride him like he was the last man on earth. He could do nothing but lay back and reach his arms out to grasp her ample hips and hold on. Each time their hips met, a soft little noise escaped her throat, like a cat’s whine, and Harry was entranced by the sound.

“Fuck, rub my clit, Harry,” Cara called out after another hard roll of her hips. “I’m so close.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Harry dragged his right hand from her waist to her wet core, savoring the expanse of silky skin in between. He found the hard, little button and traced firm circles around it, focusing hard on the look of ecstasy on her face, rather than the way she tightened around him, like a heavenly vise. Cara came suddenly, crying out and digging her sharp nails into his skin.

But she didn’t break the pace for long. Even still shuddering from her orgasm, Cara kept up the delicious roll of her hips.

“Goddamnit,” Harry stuttered out, thrusting up into her almost violently before opening his mouth in a silent shout. He released hard into Cara, his body tensing like a bowstring, before practically melting into the bed.

“Mmmm,” she purred, leaning in for another kiss before shifting off him and collapsing beside him. Then he was rewarded with one of her laughs, the low throaty sound that was quickly becoming an addiction. “I don’t think I can move anymore.”

Harry joined in her laughter, wincing a little as it jarred his aching muscles. He needed to get up and deal with the condom, he needed a cigarette, but his body didn’t seem to want to respond to his signals. Plus, laying in bed, post-coital with the woman next to him was something to savor. He earned each and every sore muscle from that night, and was thoroughly rewarded for his pains.

“It has been a long night,” he said, forcing his limbs to move just enough to give Cara a peck on the lips. She peered back at him with wide eyes, suddenly looking nervous for the first time all night. He frowned.

“Stay?” she asked, her voice near a whisper.

“Of course,” Harry answered, pressing his lips back into hers. How could he say no to that?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm 9th-hennepin over on Tumblr. Come say hello!
> 
> Thank you for reading! :D


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